Opal (Dakota Treasures #3)

Opal Torvald heard the ribald words through river water in her ears and a
haze of dreams in her heart as she floated on the gentle current of the Little
Missouri River in her chemise and bloomers. Buoyed by the water, cat-contented
by the sun, she was drifting along in a state of bliss. The words and intrusion
took a heartbeat or two to register. It was a man's voice, a strange man's
voice, and she was next to naked. Or at least in a manner of dishabille that
would bring out the caustic side of her sister's tongue. Besides attracting
unwanted attention.

Sometimes ignoring danger made it go away.

And sometimes it just got worse. Like now.

Fighting the urge to scream and run, she slitted her eyes open just enough to
catch an outline of the man against the sun. She was well enough away from the
shore that she could swim, then run to the western bank. However, her clothes
were on the eastern bank. As was the man, not to be labeled a gentleman, for a
true gentleman would have kept his back turned or would have ridden on by
without comment.

Nor could the term gentlewoman be applied to her, nor lady, for no female
under those terms would have been swimming in the river without either someone
to stand guard or a bevy of other females in attendance.

She had thought of going in without even the benefit of thin cotton between
her skin and the river water. But there was one count in her favor. She'd opted
for decency—sort of.

Who was he, anyway? She considered various ranch hands she knew from the
area, or the men in Medora who were still building for Marquis de Mores. Oh no.
What about former visitors to Dove House, the hotel she and Ruby had inherited
years earlier that had burned to a trash heap after a lightning strike?

No one came to mind. The man wore a hat she would have remembered had she
seen it before. One side of the flat brim was pinned up to the crown, not a very
practical method of protecting one's face and neck from the elements. Protection
was the purpose of the wide-brimmed felt hats worn by so many out here in the
badlands of Dakotah Territory. The crown was shaped differently too. She noticed
all this while trying to decide what to do next.

Why did he have to come and spoil her unexpected break from school? She had
truly felt sick when she told Mr. Finch she needed to head on home while she
could still make it. Her head had been pounding like stampeding cattle, and
she'd felt hot. His droning voice hadn't helped the headache any, nor did the
antipathy she'd begun to feel toward the classroom. Ruby might call it spring
fever, but after saddling Bay and heading toward home, the river had been
singing her name. Headache and heat, two things that might be cured by a dip in
the still-cold-from-spring-runoff river.

A dip had turned to a float, and now she was caught by something worse than a
swift eddy.

As unobtrusively as possible, hands fluttering at her sides, she stroked
toward the western shore. Any moment she should be able to touch bottom. If the
hot weather continued, the river would drop quickly, but right here was a pool
that stayed fairly deep year round.

"Hey, missy, you comin' on out and showing off what you tryin' to hide?" His
laugh made shivers chase up and down her spine. Suddenly the water felt so cold
her teeth started to chatter. "You can't get away, so forget the other bank. I
got your horse and clothes right here."

I can give you a mean run for your money, you rattlesnake, you.

He rode his horse closer to the water's edge. "My, my, what a sight for sore
eyes."

Going to be a lot sorer before you get what you're thinking on.

The horse put his head down for a drink. The man crossed his arms on the
saddle horn.

She could feel his leer clear down to her toes that finally felt bottom. At
least he could no longer see anything but her head. Water ran down her face, so
she smoothed her hair back out of her eyes. She should have left her hair
braided, but after the long winter, all she'd wanted to do was go for a short
and simple swim. Free-floating hair was part of the pleasure. What was so bad
about that?

She answered her own question. Some stranger riding up. That's what was
wrong with it.

Mentally she called the man one of the names that Ruby had threatened her
with loss of life and liberty for using, but it surely fit here. At the moment
Ruby would be right. No lady would let herself be caught in such a compromising
situation. Not that Opal had any designs on that title anyway. Much to her older
sister's chagrin.

"Well, if'n ya ain't comin' out, I'm comin' in after ya."

"I wouldn't advise that."

"Ya wouldn't? Now, ain't that some terrible shame." He slapped his leg and
guffawed loud enough to set the crows to clacking. "And what do you think might
stop me?"

Opal glanced beyond him when something moving caught her attention. "Water's
too cold for a yellow-livered skunk like you."

"You ain't in no position to be callin' me names like that, missy." He nudged
his horse forward, but the animal sat back on his haunches, ears flat against
his head.

"Looks to me like your horse has more sense than you do." She kept her
shoulders under the surface by bending her knees, not letting him see that she'd
moved to shallower water. His horse would have to swim, and it obviously didn't
want to do that.

The rider cursed his mount and dug in with his spurs, but all the animal did
was spin and try to break for dry ground.

At the same moment, Opal was shocked to see her friend Atticus Grady launch
an attack at the rider, pulling him off the horse with a bone-crunching thud to
the rocky ground. The horse vamoosed but not before knocking Atticus back on his
rear. The man was on him in an instant, and the two fought with fists and feet.

Though Atticus was nearing six feet tall he'd not filled out yet, so he was
outweighed by a stone or two. Out-experienced too, from the looks of it.

Dear Atticus, for sweet pity's sake, why didn't you think before you
leaped?